Thursday, December 28, 2006

Party Lights After The Solstice

After Christmas, as the winter solstice is disappearing in time's rear view mirror, and the sun is ever so slowly inching towards the Tropic of Cancer which it will intersect at the summer solstice, the days are incrementally growing longer; at first at a snail's pace, then as the sun crosses the equator, at a gallop. I know the days are getting longer because of the Christmas lights. Living in a little wooded valley, filled with solitude and darkness in the depths of winter, we don't go in for flashy Christmas decorations; just a single strand of multicolored lights strung along the split rail fence in our back yard, above the pond. When the holidays have come and gone, Liz won't let me take them down; she calls them "party lights" then, and usually when she finally relents and lets me put them away, I can watch robins hopping about on the lawn while I'm working. The lights are on a timer that turns them on at dusk, then they stay on for a set number of hours after dark; currently five hours. As sunset comes later with the lengthening days, I will have to start changing the timer setting, or else the lights will glow until the wee hours of the morning, further cementing our reputation with the neighbors as being slightly daffy. Fortunately (for all concerned) our nearest neighbor is across the pond-through the trees-at the top of the hill.
Actually, at one time, I used to go in more for splashier Christmas lights; in the front yard I would stand up four large pieces; Santa in his sleigh, and three sets of reindeer. I gave that up, when our friend Dennis, visiting around New Year's asked me why the reindeer were pushing Santa's sleigh... I had set them up backwards. None of the neighbors had said a word. Oh well... so if you visit us, we're the lone house at the end of the road, at the bottom of the hill, deep in the woods, with one small string of lights that go off at night when I say they will. Posted by Picasa

Don, I assure you, some of my neighbors think I am more than "slightly" daffy. I'm the one who killed off her whole yard in an attempt to convert it to prairie turf grass. Two seedings later, it still hasn't worked. lol But I think I have softened up the old gentleman who came over and berated me for my conversion attempts "just when it was finally starting to look nice" (!) by my adoration of his son's cat, "Wrigley", who walks on a leash. So hooray for the daffy and kind!--Kim
Kim... starting a prairie is WAY hard!
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